


We Make Our Own Sense

by harrymeth



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe- Magic, Angst, Fluff, Harry is possibly the worst prince ever, Witch! Zayn, Zayn kind of hates it, prince! Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrymeth/pseuds/harrymeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>It's nights like this when Zayn despises ever presenting himself as a witch. Always when he's stuck in a cats fucking body watching over a drunken Prince Harry make his way through the massive ballroom filled other royals and important figures of the court.</em><br/>  </p><p>Where Zayn is Prince Harry's secret witch who's devoted to protect the Prince, even if he rather do anything but. Harry carries the crown, but Zayn carries Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Make Our Own Sense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randomincidents](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomincidents/gifts).



> To randomincidents, all your prompts were absolutely amazing and two of them stood out the most which lead to this! I really, really hope you enjoy this and think I did your prompts any justice.
> 
> And another small thank you to add to the million other thank you's to my beta.

It's a night like this when Zayn despises ever presenting himself as a witch – _wizard_ , Zayn insists on being called by the few people who know, although always ignored. Always when he's stuck in a cats fucking body, at the top of the stair case, watching over a drunken Prince Harry. Watching him make his way through the massive ballroom filled with other royals and important figures of the court, always with a goblet filled with wine as his eyes progressively grew heavier and turning a shade of pink that matched the rest of his face. Always when the night never seems to end, watching the Prince dance and chat and drink his way into the early morning, all when Zayn ever wants to do is _sleep_.

Always a night like this when he wishes he kept being a witch a secret. That he kept his practice to himself and the other witches in the village (and there was many who could smell him from miles away when he first discovered his magic at the age of twelve, making it a bit hard for Zayn to hide it from them even if he wanted to _try_ ). Instead, he opened his young adolescent mouth to a pretty boy with prettier lips, and within hours word reached King Desmond. Zayn still remembers how fast his heart beat was and how much his mother cried when the King's noble men pounded on his door right as the sun rose, expecting to be beheaded the next morning.

The King did give him a decent proposition he _literally_ couldn't refuse after having his noblemen throw Zayn into a chair across from him. It was to watch over the young Prince, the King's only heir and _precious_ blood to the kingdom; he was to make sure the Prince was to stay out of all kinds of trouble and prying hands of those who wanted to end the Styles line as royals. At almost to _all_ times. Zayn wanted to refuse, to stomp his feet and scoff in the King's face and say he'd rather count the times the King took a shit than watch that brat of a Prince. Almost as if the King read his mind, he smiled kindly and reminded Zayn of all the witches that were burned at the stake and the beheading of their families. Zayn had to hold back the bile that rose in his throat and agreed, signing whatever contracts the King sat in front of him with his mother's cries in the corner of the kitchen.

"You made the right decision, Sir Zayn," the King had muttered to him, patting his back with a heavy hand before making his exit, leaving Zayn to finally hunch over and empty whatever was left in his stomach from the night before.

He was given a few truly strict rules. One was to only ever be seen by the Prince when Zayn was getting him out of trouble, then wiping his memory (Zayn rolled his eyes at the King's limited knowledge of magic, then begged his way through the village for a mind erasing spell). Another was to never try to plot against the royal family, with a reminder of treason and the heads of Zayn's family. The third was to never mix his magic with mythical creatures. Zayn never stood exactly _why_ , so he proceeded to raise a small army of dragons, then managed to charm the eldest witch in the village to give him a potion to transform the three small dragons into black kittens. It's for his own protection, Zayn tells himself, also knowing they can get him killed.

But now, Zayn's there, bored for the fifth night in a short week, where Prince Harry threw another ball in hopes to find his future Queen or something. It's his third year in a row where he's done this; always finds a pretty royal from another country that only manages to stay the duration of the holidays. Once the new year rolls in, the Prince loses his interest and explains to his parents with round eyes and mouth in a pout that _she had no aspirations of being the Queen_. Zayn knows he just hates being alone during the festive season. That he physically needs someone to hold onto when everyone else seems to have a significant other they're more affectionate with during the season. Zayn's caught on well enough in the past few years to know how ridiculous and a waste of time it was.

Zayn spares another glance at the Prince from where he's sat, sees him on the dance floor with Princess Rosalynn, well into being drunk with how lazy he's moving and how far his grin is stretched. He then glances over at where the King and Queen sit, up higher on the stage in their red thrones embellished in gold, dressed in their best furs in silks as they chat amongst themselves, before moving out to the balcony for a quick break.

Half way through his cigarette is when he hears laughter and shouting over boots and heels stomping against the pavement. It's a group of the younger member's at court, running from the ballroom,that has Zayn rolling his eyes and envies them at the same time, wishing he too could run off and not be anywhere _near_ the position he's in. Then as he goes for another drag of his cigarette, his wish is only somewhat granted when he sees the all to familiar gold crown on the verge of falling off the curly, curly hair of the Prince as he runs hand in hand with Princess Rosalynn. Zayn wants to fucking _scream_ as he tosses whatever's left of his rolled tobacco and hopes his magic's fast enough to turn him back into a cat as he jumps off the balcony.

Zayn's lungs are on _fire_ when he finally catches up to the group of fucking brutes, right as they start tearing off their clothes the closer they get to the small lake. They're all laughing their heads off like maniacs, as if this was the greatest idea ever and Zayn wants to run home, wants to avoid dealing with a bunch of drunks and just be in _bed_ , have his dragons cuddle him into the new year.

And Prince Harry, always been a brave one once his blood is filled with alcohol since the first time Zayn's seen him drunk, when someone in the group points over at the cliff nearby, and yell, "Jump!" Zayn _prays_ the look of consideration on Harry's face is him considering that that's the dumbest fucking idea ever.

"Yeah, _Your Highness_ , shouldn't be scared of a little height, right?" an unfamiliar face shouts, Zayn's heart dropping at malice behind it, hoping Harry can hear it too.

"Do it, Your Highness! You'll even get yourself a reward." Zayn then notices Princess Rosalynn smirking up at Prince Harry as she stands in the nude.

"See you all in a bit, then," Prince Harry grins as he bows, turning on his heels towards the cliff as the group hollers and cheers him on. Zayn

notices the smirks shared between Princess Rosalynn and the man with the unfamiliar face before trailing off after the Prince.

"Don't do it, Your Highness!" Zayn shouts, out of sight of the group and back into his own body.

The Prince visibly jumps, turns to face Zayn with wide eyes and dick swinging and of course, this is how coming into contact with the Prince would go. "Who- who are _you_?" he sneers, taking a step away.

"No one, just don't jump," Zayn almost begs, short of breath and taking a step closer.

"Why would I listen to _you_?" Prince Harry looks back at the edge of the cliff then back at Zayn, and Zayn _knows_ he's about to sprint off.

"You'll _die_ , Your Highness."

"I won't." The Prince takes a step closer to the edge.

"Please, don't."

"And if I do?" he mocks, taking another step.

"Your Highness, don't make me chase-" and the Prince takes off and Zayn groans loudly, hands rubbing at his tired eyes as he mumbles a spell under his breath, then hears an _oof_ as the Prince crashes against the dirt and stones.

"I told you not to make me chase you, Your Highness," Zayn mutters, rolling his eyes as he steps up to where the Prince lays, large green eyes filled with fear and tears.

"How--"

"Don't question it," Zayn says, starts pulling off his top coat.

"I'll have you killed," his voice trembles while he tries setting his face into something firm, tough, something to intimidate Zayn, but his bottom lip trembles too much and his eyes let a few tears escape his eyes. Zayn laughs.

"You won't. Put this on and follow me, all right? I don't want to put you to sleep, Your Highness," Zayn sighs, tossing him the coat and drops the spell from him, lets Prince Harry use his own limbs to slip into the coat (Zayn doesn't comment on the look of disgust when the Prince looks at it) and gets up to his feet. "No running, remember?"

The Prince stupidly tries running. Twice.

The first time Zayn casts the same spell, lets the Prince fall to the floor with his limbs immobile that makes him cry out in frustration. "What did I say about running?"

"Fine! Fine! I won't run!" Harry cries. Zayn lets him get to his feet and warns him again about running.

The second time, Zayn puts him to sleep. Let's him fall to the floor using the first spell before crouching down next to him and whispers a small, "Goodnight, Your Highness." He sees the Prince on the verge of shouting, and then casts his spell, watches Prince Harry's head fall as he falls asleep immediately, and Zayn really wishes he hadn't ran considering now he has to carry him all the way back.

The guards let him in easily, taking the Prince from him and have him follow them through the castle lit with dim candles throughout the halls until they're at the Princes' quarters, at the top of one of the many towers. The next pair of guards quickly opens the door for them, Zayn gesturing to drop the Prince on the bed and bids him away. It's the only time Zayn has any kind of power; the King strict on the guards leaving Zayn alone when he conducts his magic.

Once Zayn takes his coat back and wraps Prince Harry in his silks, right in the middle of the bed that's possibly eight times the size of the one Zayn has at home, he takes a quick look over him. He presses his lips to his jaw to quickly heal the scratches he must have gotten when falling. He pushes the hair back from his sweaty face, hopes the crown will be returned, and takes a look at the Prince. At the alcohol flushed cheeks and apple red lips, snoring softly and Zayn remembers just how young he is, only nineteen, five years younger than Zayn, and soon to be King. He sighs, mumbling a spell quietly under his breath before pressing his lips to his sweaty forehead like he's done many times before, and wipes whatever memory the Prince has of him, and leaves.

 

**

 

Another rule of King Desmond's was to _never_ lie to him. So when he asks Zayn what kind of trouble the Prince fell into, Zayn sighs into his mug of tea, Venus, his eldest dragon, nuzzling herself at his ankles, he confesses.

"Almost killed himself trying to jump off the cliff."

"And _who_ was he accompanied by?"

"Some people from the court, some princess," Zayn shrugs, looking down at Venus to avoid the King's glare.

" _Zayn_ ," the King snarls, much like Harry did the night before.

"All I recognized was that Princess who just arrived."

"What was her part in it?"

"Your Highness--"

"May I remind you if you're protecting someone with the intention of hurting the Prince, you as _well_  will be tried for treason." He glares, eyebrows meeting in the middle. Zayn wants to cry, maybe even cast a spell that'll transport him back to his mother's home.

"She encouraged him to jump," he winces at his own words, knows he might be the cause of a woman's death. Athena, always knows when Zayn's feeling ill, comes to join Venus at his feet.

The King grins down at him as he stands, nods at one of his men, who sits a bag on his kitchen counter. "Your earnings, Sir Zayn. I'll see you soon." He nods once, pats Zayn's back with a heavy hand like he always does, then leaves with his men behind him.

Zayn groans, sits his tea down and crouches down to pick up Athena. "This is all fucked, isn't it?" he sighs and moves to feed both dragons.

 

**

 

A week later, Zayn's at another ball. He's allowed to be in his own body this time, since it's a masquerade, King Desmond's request. He's even allowed a glass of wine that's refilled twice, and it's the good Royal wine that's only ever given at these parties, so he feels good, loose, at ease, a good way to feel right before he's about to head back to his home village. He feels so good, chats with a few of the guest, acts as if he's a duke, maybe even a foreign prince. When he wanders around for a third refill, the glass is snatched, the man behind an emerald green mask points up at the King. He's glaring right at him, his eyes telling Zayn that he's reached his limit on wine, then nods at the Prince sat right next to him. His red, wet lips pouting as the rest of his face is covered from the mask of their colors of blood red. Zayn laughs.

Well into the night, when Zayn's itching for a cigarette when the haze of the wine starts to wear off, he catches the Prince sneaking out from one of the back entrances, pulling the drape just enough to slip through and Zayn groans. _Why_ can't the Prince stay where he needs to be, is beyond Zayn as he stomps his way after him. Moves through the crowd of people swiftly and quickly until he's pulling back the same drape the Prince disappeared behind.

The Prince is only a few steps ahead, whatever amount of alcohol he consumed has him stumbling over his own feet, making it a lot easier for Zayn to catch up. "Where are you headed?" Zayn questions, clasping his hands behind his back as he falls into step with Prince Harry.

"It's none of _your_ concern," he uses the same tone as the other night, a snarl and look of annoyance.

"Yet it is."

"You're not one of the guards, so it really isn't," he spits, picks up his pace.

"But I am."

"You're not. The guards all have the same mask and yours isn't it."

"Don't make this hard, Your Highness," Zayn groans, tries keeping his frustration at bay as he tries to keep up.

"I won't return. I refuse."

"The King-"

"Fuck him," he shouts, stopping mid step to turn at Zayn fully. "Fuck. Him."

"He'll have a fit-"

"And do what? Have my head?" he rolls his eyes, turning back away from Zayn and continues on his path.

"He'll have mine, though."

"Tough shit." And well, Zayns tired and annoyed now. He falls back from Harry's step and calls out a spell that has Harry's feet stuck to the floor. "What--"

"Are you always so fucking stubborn?" when the Prince's jaw drops and goes to speak, Zayn's quick to grin, adds, "Your Highness."

"A witch!"

"Maybe," Zayn shrugs, can sense no one's around to hear Harry's new found knowledge. Plus most of the guards throughout court know what Zayn is and know better than to spread word of it.

"Let go of me! I'll have you killed!" Zayn laughs, recalls the same words of the last night they were together, when he laid helpless on the floor. He moves closer to the Prince, dropping the spell and casts another, setting it with pressing his lips right in the center of Prince Harry's forehead. When he steps back, the Prince stares up at him, confused, lost.

"The way to the ball is this way, Your Highness," Zayn smiles, grabbing at the Prince's wrist, who finally grins in return, eyes falling down to Zayn's mouth before nodding.

"Lead the way then."

 

**

 

Of course the Prince would cause the most trouble right before Zayn's due to head back home.

It was too good to be true when Zayn thought he had two free weeks before returning to his mother and extended family. He should have known that not having to deal with the Prince in any kind of way would have lead to this.

He hears the horses and carriages racing towards his small cottage not to far from court. He was offered to live there, but Zayn couldn't bear the idea of staying so close to the Royals, especially with his dragons. Which who all were alert, staring out the window, the tip of their tails wanting to spark to life as whoever was barging towards their home got close. Zayn's quick to jump out of bed and throw on pants, ready to open the door as the King jumps out the carriage as soon as his men open the door.

Zayn's truly starting to question what kind of duties the King has with all this extra time he has to come speak to Zayn personally.

Zayn goes to bow, but the King is motions him to stand. "Harry's gone missing."

" _What?_ "

"No one's sure how he escaped! He was in bed moments before the guards checked in."

"What--"

"Use your magic, Zayn! I am sure you can cast some sort of spell to get him _back_."

"I'm not too--"

"You _must_ make it happen, Zayn," the King interrupts, pointing a stubby finger at him. "Noon tomorrow, if he's not back at court, it's _your_ head." Zayn gapes at him as he exits his home, cats meowing after him when the horses begin charging away. Venus is the first at Zayn's feet once they're back in silence of the dimly lit home. When Zayn no longer feels their presence, Athena and Persephone join.

"We're fucked, aren't we?" he cries.

He's quick to star rummaging through piles of books filled with spells and potions Ophelia had given him when he first began practicing his magic. He quickly skims through most spells, almost in tears as the dragons mewl like kittens somewhere behind him, pulling out other books that contained the same thing. Zayn _truly_ doesn't want to die over an adolescent Prince.

When's he's almost two hours in, he finds a spell that'll help him find a spell and _then_ cries. He reads it thoroughly, practices saying it in his head before standing and casting it, watching various books flip open then fly through pages. Zayn watches in awe as the dragons meow loudly, until all books lay open on a certain page, and Zayn quickly reads through them, picks one which the dragons will help him with, then moves on.

(Not before finding a spell to put his room back together.)

 

The dragons act almost as hound dogs as they smell their way through the forest, finding the Prince not too far from his home, sat alongside a small creek that leads up to the lake the Prince almost died in, only in his undergarments, hair wet and dripping down his back as he wrote away in a small moleskin. Zayn huffs out a laugh, because what kind of coincidence that Zayn was about to _die_ if he didn't found the Prince, and here he is, where Zayn saved him not to long ago. _Of course_.

Zayn then notices the Prince wiping at his eyes, hiccuping breath and Zayn feels _sorry_ for the young Prince. He watches the Prince wipe at his cheeks a few more times before sighing, crouching down to his dragons.

"Be nice," he commands, then nods over at Prince Harry and they're off.

Zayn watches from a few back, leaning against a tree, laughs when he sees Prince Harry jump as Athena pushes his moleskin from his lap and replaces it with herself. Persephone and Venus quickly climb after her, nudging their heads into Prince Harry's stomach and the Prince grins so wide, lets the kittens cuddle him. Zayn scolds himself as he feels his heart soften, watching the Prince's tears stop running and is just a mess of the sniffles and small giggles. He's so cute, Zayn's sick.

He heads over once the Prince starts scratching behind Venus's ears, the dragons picking up some of the weaknesses of a kitten. Zayn can see the other two falling off to sleep in the middle of where Harry's legs are crossed at the ankles.

"Are they yours?" the Prince asks, voice softer than Venus's purrs.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Enough with the formalities," he scoffs, finally looking up to meet Zayn's eyes, wide and still glossy, and it's like something sets in the Prince. Leaves his mouth hanging open for a beat too long that makes Zayn think he has some recollection of him, but then he says, "Just Harry, please." He nods his head at the spot next to him, near where his clothes lay, and Zayn obliges, takes a seat.

Athena is quick to abandon the Prince's -Harry's- lap once she recognizes Zayn's warmth and climbs into his lap, making Harry pout and Zayn chuckle. They sit in the silence of kittens purring and the water flowing down the creek, scratching behind kitten ears for a bit. Zayn really doesn't know what to do considering he's never _been_ in a situation where Harry wasn't technically in danger. So he sits, glances over at Harry to catch his small smiles down at the dragons, and avoids the warmth in his heart.

"You're to take me back, correct?" Harry breaks the silence, looking over at Zayn with less watery eyes.

"I am," Zayn answers and Harry nods, a sad smile on his lips as he looks back down at the kittens.

"Always wanted one, but Father said since I'm to be King I shouldn't be worried about a household pet," he rolls his eyes with a shake of his head.

"Well, they are a bit of trou--"

"Can you not?" Harry interrupts. "I beg you. I'm tired of hearing people agree with my father just because he's _King_."

"Then… it's a bunch of shit. Cats are fairly easy to care for." That makes Harry laugh, nodding his approval and Zayn fights the feeling of pride off.

"What's the time set to have me back?"

"Noon."

"Can you hold off on taking me, then? We have a few hours and I just… I just really have no desire to head back just yet," he whispers, pink wet lips formed in the famous pout Zayn sometimes thinks of.

Zayn can't help but tug his bottom lip into his mouth as he looks over at Harry. He knows he should disagree; insist they head back to court so the King won't have his head served on a silver platter. He shouldn't let his decision be clouded with how hopeless Harry looks right now, shouldn't want to cuddle him until he's got a smile back on those pink lips.

But also, Zayn knows how it feels to want to disappear for a bit, even if it's for a few hours. He knows how it is to yearn to not exist, to not worry, to be anywhere instead of where he needs to be, so Zayn gives in. Stands with a sigh, no longer able to look at Harry's tear swollen, pleading eyes, because he knows. He understands.

He also knows the King wouldn't consider bothering him when he knows Zayn's using his ‘ _devil work_ ' to find his son.

"Fuck all, right?"

"Really?" Harry gasps.

"Yeah, come on. Think I still got a bit of my mother's pie. Truly to die for." _Literally_ he thinks as Harry leaps up to his feet, kittens pressed to his chest.

"Lead the way," Harry bows.

 

**

 

Harry eats the whole pie, or what was left of it, along with three glasses of Zayn's cheap wine (Harry's favorite apparently). He's full, drunk and grinning, laying across the small sofa in the small living room, talking about his long-term friends from court, Duke Liam and Sir Louis. He talks and talks, about the nights they use to sneak out and drink their parent's liquor down by the lake until they stumbled to their quarters when the sun was rising, when the guards actually kept his secrets. Zayn nods through it, sat against the smaller table on the floor, as if he understood.

Sometimes Harry would go quiet, after he'd laugh for so long. Whether it be from telling a story of something stupid Sir Louis did, or a story Zayn told of his mother scalding him, he'd have a small smile on his lips, eyes far away, as if trying to picture whatever it was vividly in his head. So Zayn didn't push. Let him sit in his own world until he was ready to speak again.

When he goes quiet for a beat too long, Zayn then notices Harry looking over at him. The same small smile, but he's fully there. Like there's nothing wrong in his own world, like he wasn't due at court in a few hours, like Zayn's head wasn't on the line, and it was almost comforting. For the first time throughout the night Zayn can look the Prince in the eye without wanting to look elsewhere.

"I didn't thank you, Zayn."

"It's alright, love."

"No, no. You've been so gracious to me, I'm beyond thankful, Zayn. For having me. No one lets me do as I please anymore, everything I've done has been my father's orders, so this… this is a lot," Harry admits, chewing on his bottom lip and Zayn really just needs him to stop that.

"An honor," Zayn says instead, making Harry smile in return before turning back to Persephone, sleeping peacefully, small enough to stretch across his entire chest. Zayn never thought the dragons would stay the small size of a kitten forever, wouldn't have made them into kittens if he had known. But now, seeing how small they were, yet how much power they held, Zayn wouldn't have it any other way. Especially seeing all of them so small compared to Harry.

Harry hums along to a tune Zayn recognizes from the parties he's always attending at court, but it sounds much sweeter coming from Harry. His low voice and soft hand on Persephone, Zayn knows he's fucked. Knows he should try to stop whatever his hearts doing at the sight of the _Prince_. Someone way out of reach, someone he's supposed to protect. Yet, he knows all these things, and doesn't fucking stop. Let's his heart race a bit more when Harry smiles over at him before holding the kitten against his chest as he moves from the couch and down to the floor, sitting right across Zayn, dressed in one of Zayn's thicker sweaters, hair frizzing and grin loose.

Zayn's fucked.

"So, anyone special in your life?"

"The mother," Zayn answers, making Harry throw his head back onto the couch and give a low, throaty laugh, startling Persephone. He pouts when she scowls at him before jumping out of his lap and goes to join the other two in the bed of blankets next to the fire pit.

"And the kittens?"

"And the kittens," Zayn nods, smiling softly. Harry giggles, reaching for the glass of wine he discarded earlier, taking a small sip.

"May I kiss you?" Harry asks into the glass of wine, face flushing a shade darker than what the wine has already caused.

Zayn laughs as Harry smacks his face, shaking his head into his wine glass. "You're asking for permission to kiss me?"

"It was silly, don't mind me."

"You're the Prince, think you're free to do what you want," Zayn teases, presses his toe into Harry's thigh.

"You're right," Harry laughs, setting his glass back down, and moves onto his knees, scooting closer to Zayn. "I am the Prince. In fact, _you_ should kiss _me_."

"As you wish," Zayn shrugs, reaching a hand out to Harry's neck once he's close enough, thumb stroking at the jawline that's on it's way of making a strong appearance. Harry sits on the back of his heels, grinning a mile wide, waiting. Zayn laughs, pulling him in.

It hurts; their teeth hitting each other that makes them break apart and laugh into each other's shoulder, Zayn's hand moving to Harry's curly, curly hair, Harry gripping on Zayn's thigh, mumbling, "That was _terrible_." Having them both laughing again until Zayn pulls his head back, other hand reaching up to his jaw and thumb tracing over Harry's lips until he's no longer laughing, grinning softly with his heavy eyes flickering between Zayn's mouth and eyes, so Zayn moves in a second time.

It's soft and sweet, Harry's lips moving slowly against his with the slightest bit of tongue, his hand running up and down his thigh almost shyly. It's nice, warm, something Zayn always wanted to feel one day in his life, and it's the the boy he's sworn to protect, he wants to laugh. But then Harry's climbing into his lap, hands reaching up to grab at Zayn's neck, whimpering in his mouth, Zayn forgets about the whole protecting him thing, just gives in.

They kiss and kiss and kiss until Harry falls asleep on Zayn's chest in front of the fire pit where the kittens also slept, while Zayn stays up. Doesn't let himself risk sleeping past noon and have the King barge into his home and kill him then and there. So he hums the same tune Harry hummed moments prior, strokes his cheek, runs his hands through his tangled hair, lets Harry sleep off the wine. He contemplates on casting a spell to bottle the feeling of being at _peace_ for the first time in years. Laughs at the fact that it's Harry who causes him all his stress, and is the one to put him at ease.

 

**

 

Moments after the sun rises, Zayn has Harry up and getting dressed.

"A few more moments, _please_."

"Can't, love," Zayn sighs, sliding his foot into a boot and stands.

"Will you come and visit me?"

"I'll try." Harry frowns, scratches the heads of the kittens before standing up as well.

"Ready?"

"No."

"Well then," Zayn hums, grabs Harry's hand and leads them out.

Harry clings to him the entire walk, hand running up and down his arm as he hums another tune Zayn recognizes. It's the only thing that comes from either of them trailing along the clear path the King's horses came about making with all the traveling they do to his house. It's comforting, Zayn really just wants to turn them around and pull Harry in bed, and if Harry's kisses are anything to go by, he wouldn't disagree.

Once they're in sight of the first pair of guards, Harry lets go of him. "So I won't have to explain what this is to my father," Harry explains with a roll of his eyes and Zayn's glad they're on the same page.

They make it up to Harry's quarters unbothered, and Zayn really is supposed to wipe Harry's memory by now, but Harry's looking at him like he hung the stars, a private smile away from the prying eyes of his guards, and Zayn really wants to fucking _kiss_ him.

But then, "King Desmond requests your presence, Sir Zayn." Zayn sighs, looking over at one of the King's noblemen, chest out and head held high.

"You know the King?"

"I do work for him."

"Right. Well. Thank you for bringing me back, Sir Zayn."

"Always, Your Highness," Zayn bows, sees Harry holding back his laugh before sending him a wink and following the nobleman.

 

**

 

King Desmond has Zayn meet him in his garden, sat out sipping tea and his maids standing by. He grimaces once he sees Zayn, gesturing for the man leading him there to go and offering the seat across from him for Zayn. He bows before taking the seat.

"Where was he?" the King questions, eyeing over Zayn's body.

"Along the creek, Your Highness."

"Was he with anyone?"

"No, sat by himself." The King nods at his answer, taking another sip from his tea.

"Well, I'll see you soon then, Sir Zayn. Have a safe journey home."

**

 

Zayn will never admit to how much he thinks of the young prince when he's home.

He truly didn't think he'd have so many thoughts running through his mind that involved Harry. Not for the first few days he was back. He let his mother cook him four meals a day and sleeps for hours in his old bed with his dragons laid around him, his mother singing how she felt in the room over like she did when he was young and still lived at home.

He goes to visit his cousins who ask him about court and Prince Harry _"he's a brat, the biggest brat"_ and doesn't think much about him once they ask him to take them shopping, knowing the amount he makes. So he buys them all sorts of sweets and toys to keep them busy as he pulls his youngest cousin Mysha aside, reeking of magic, and she excitedly tells him all the spells she's been working on with Ophelia. Zayn grins so wide, knowing he isn't the only one with the cursed blessing in the family feels comforting.

So he takes her with him when he goes to visit Ophelia. They let Mysha practice spells on them, Ophelia tells her how many times Zayn messed up before becoming the great witch he is today (Zayn also will never admit to blushing at her words). He spends a lot of time with the two of them before Ophelia leaves the village for a month, giving them lists of postions and spells they might need soon, saying all while her light blue eyes bore into Zayn's.

So when Zayn has nothing else to do, when everyone returns to their normal lives after Zayn's been home for almost three weeks, when Zayn's alone in his mother's home, he finally thinks about Harry. Thinks about his soft touches and softer lips; the way he flushes so easily, whether it be from alcohol or embarrassment from something he said, turning a bright shade of red from his cheeks down to his chest.

It almost leave's Zayn wondering if he's felt this way from the beginning, but just now manifesting. Wonders if being able to have such strong feelings after a short night together because Harry wanted to be a fucking _brat_. Zayn misses him.

He looks at the list of spells and potions Ophelia gave him, one potion being to keep his emotions at a minimum for a short period of time, Zayn fixes it up and takes it, then decides to sleep whenever he's got nothing else to do.

 

**

 

Zayn shouldn't be surprised when the King's noblemen are knocking at his door in the early moments of the day. His dragons wake him up first, Athena's tail too close to his face as it began to spark. Then his mother comes in, eyes worried and Zayn really hates that _this_ is what he has to deal with for being a witch.

"The King requests you."

"For _what_?"

For the first time since the King has chosen this man as one of his guards, Zayn senses his nerves on edge, making his own nerves on wind up and his stomach twist.

"The Prince… he's fallen really ill." Zayn hears his mother gasp somewhere behind him as he loses his track of time.

The men throw him into the carriage after he shares goodbye's with his mother. They rush through the paths while Zayn's on autopilot. He doesn't want to think of Harry lying in bed so poorly they needed to seek a witch out to help when there's doctors on court grounds available at all times. He doesn't want to think of the nervous noblemen sat on each side of him, or that the last time he saw Harry was too long ago, that he should have bottled those emotions for a time like this.

 

It's almost a full day when they finally reach court, Zayn being rushed through to the Prince's quarters, and Zayn can sense him before even seeing him. He can sense the weakness in his body, the overheating and lack of breathing, makeing Zayn run a bit faster.

When he slams through the door, Zayn wants to cry. See's the Prince laid out in the middle of his too big bed he complained about that night on a drunken tongue. He's sickly pale, dark circles under his eyes and sweating profusely.

"What's wrong?" Zayn grits out, turning to the guards, slightly wonders where the King is.

"They think he's been poisoned."

" _Poisoned?_ " Zayn yells, sparring a glance over at an unresponsive Prince. "How does he get poisoned? You were supposed to watch over him!" he growls, making his way to the bed and crawls up near Harry, pressing a palm to his sweaty forehead. He's burning up, way too much to be anywhere near safe and Zayn wants to cry.

"Is there anything--"

"Get out. All of you," Zayn demands, casting a spell that pushes them all out the room and slams the door shut.

So he gets to work. He mumbles a spell under his breath before pressing his lips to his each of Harry's cheek, then to his forehead, in hopes it'll lower his fever. He pulls out the list Ophelia had recently given him, finds a small potion that'll detoxifies the body, and has a guard rush to get everything he needed, then another guard to get his kittens (granted, he does get strange looks for such request, but he knows Harry would appreciate it). Then he waits, continues mumbling the same fever-lowering spell every few minutes, then fixes up the potion once the guard returns with every item.

Once the potions ready, he reads out what Ophelia wrote out before dropping a bit of it in each of Harry's ears, hopes it isn't too late. That Harry would wake up soon and they could re-do the night they had together without a curfew. He repeats the same routine for a few hours, dropping a bit of the potion into each of Harry's ears, then kisses his face with the fever reducing spell, up until he his body is psychically drained from all the magic, and passes out right next to Harry.

He doesn't know how long he was out, but he's still in the too large bed, covered in silks and feels Harry's body next to his, and he doesn't think about it for too long, just tries getting closer to fall back into his dreamless sleep, until he hears that fucking _giggle_. One that was on his mind way too much than normal amount and jumps up.

And Harry's there, sitting up in his bed still looking sickly, but he's gained some of the color back in his face and he isn't sweating so much, with Venus in his arms, grinning at _him_.

"I'm afraid to inform you, but your kittens are dragons," Harry says, voice hoarse and hardly there, and grins so wide, Zayn laughs. After Harry coming back from near death, the first thing he mentions is his kittens, because of _course_. Zayn wants to cry.

"You're up, love."

"I am, thank you. You're a witch, did you know?" Zayn laughs, shakes his head and reaches up to press his mouth to Harry's, who laughs and pulls him closer.

 

**

 

"Can you maybe cast some spell to make me the greatest ruler of all time?"

Zayn rolls his eyes for what seems to be the millionth time within the morning. It's all out of fond though, as he watches Harry pout as the Ladies dress him up, kittens dancing around him. He doesn't know why the nerves are hitting him just _now_ when he was prancing around festivities throughout the kingdom for a _month_ leading up to this day, not including the fact it's been a _year_ since King Desmond told the Prince he'll be stepping down from the throne. A year since Harry's had Zayn's full love and reassurance, along protection from himself and other witches through the villages nearby, including Ophelia who fell in love with Harry the moment Zayn walked him through her door.

Harry's just a bundle of nerves now, though. Can't sit still long enough for one of the Ladies to comb his hair away from his face, or needing to pace through his bedroom when the one of the Ladies had tried to tighten pieces of his outfit. Zayn constantly apologizes to them and they nod, hiding their frustrations behind tight smiles and taking deep breaths.

"You'll be fine, my love," Zayn sighs, taking a bite of the sweet bread the Queen baked herself, knowing it was to calm Harry down a bit, but Harry just couldn't eat, not when he's on the verge of having his nerves attack.

"What if… what if my I mess up my speech?"

"Then I'll give you a potion that'll help you remember it."

"Zaayn," Harry whines, stomping his foot and looking over where Zayn's sat, already dressed and too calm. "Can I have a moment with my future ex-husband, please?" Harry asks the Ladies as Zayn laughs from across the room, the two Ladies giggling before bowing and quickly leaving the room. Zayn's positive they'd take any opportunity to leave Harry alone.

"We haven't even got married and you're planning on leaving me?" Zayn teases, mocking a tone of hurt as he throws his hand over his heart. "It hurts, love."

"Zayn," Harry whines, stomping his foot once again.

"Come on then," Zayn pats his lap. "Come tell me your problems, Your Highness," he laughs, grabs at Harry's waist once he's near enough and pulling him down.

"I'm scared," Harry whispers into his neck, hand gripping tightly at the coat someone through on him.

"You'll be an amazing King, Harry. Your family knows it, your kingdom knows it, and I know you know it," Zayn whispers into Harry's ear, fingers tracing along his bare back, counting over each vertebrae.

"And if I fuck up?"

"Then we're getting that divorce, love."

"Zayn!" Harry laughs, pushing at his shoulder then lets Zayn brings him back in.

"We'll see, yeah? I'll still be by your side, and I'm a witch, love, I can get us anywhere if we have to run."

Harry laughs, shaking his head. "Very reassuring."

"I love you, you know. You got me and other people protecting you, and you're far too charming to fail. So get dressed, alright? Deep breaths." Zayn hums, takes a few deep breaths himself, that has Harry following him until he's breathing properly and smiles into Zayn's neck.

"Can you still give me the potion to memorize my speech, then?" Zayn laughs and does just that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [Tumblr](http://noasszayn.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
